If we prevail
by Delay88
Summary: Tywin wants to make Rhaegar his King. Rhaegar wants to make Tywin his Hand. Love is in the air. And the Tourney at Harrenhal is just around the corner. This could end with their heads on spikes. Or it could be the beginning of something good. One-shot


The Prince did not smile –he rarely ever did– but he looked strangely at peace in his sleep, hugging his pillow, long strands of silver hair tumbling over his shoulders. Tywin wanted to caress his face, to brush the hair behind his ears and place a kiss on his temples, but he resisted the urge. Like as not, Rhaegar had brooded over their plans for the better part of the night before falling asleep. He needed the rest. He needed all the rest he could get for what was to come.

Tywin rose from the bed and went to the window to watch the sun rise over Blackwater Bay. Their plans were bold, daring, heroic almost, and that was what troubled him. For if there was one thing he understood all too well it was that the line between audacity and recklessness, between heroism and madness was very fine indeed.

The seas below the castle were calm, but the horizon was a deep red. He knew this was the lull before the storm. _Madness_ , Tywin thought. _This plan is madness_. But Rhaegar was determined, and he understood the art of persuasion. _I will marry Cersei_ , the prince had promised him. _The dragon has three heads_. His fierce little girl would become Queen after all. _She'll think of herself as Visenya_ , Tywin knew. _If..._ If _we prevail..._

The sound of the prince stirring behind him jarred him from his thoughts. He thought he'd been careful not to wake Rhaegar, but when he turned around, the young Targaryen's eyes were open. "Come, stay with me a little longer," he said.

Tywin slipped back under the blanket, letting Rhaegar wrap his arms around him and rest his head on his chest.

"I've thought about the tourney some more." The prince's voice was soft but firm. "We should raise the prize money. Every house needs to be there."

"Lord Whent is already outspending me." Tywin said wryly. The winner of the Tourney at Harrenhall would take more than twice the amount of gold he had offered at Lannisport, and somehow, that rankled him.

For a moment, the young prince looked puzzled. " _We_ are outspending you."

"Yes, but people don't know that."

"I would _hope_ so," the prince said. He studied Tywin's face, his lips curving into a smile – a tired, melancholy smile, but a smile all the same. "I can't believe this troubles you."

"I suppose it keeps my mind off _bigger_ concerns," Tywin said pointedly.

On most days, the prince's melancholy made it easy to forget he was only two-and-twenty, but when it came to his visions for the realm, his youthfulness showed. "We'll weave an alliance like the world has never seen before," he said. "Seven kingdoms and eight families united as one, ruling as one."

"If the gods are good, we'll have an alliance that will depose your father and see us through a few winters," Tywin countered. "We'll see about everything else."

"This frightens you." Rhaegar said quietly. It was not a question.

For a moment, Tywin considered denying it, but there was no point in pretending. "How could it not?"

"Yes. How could it not..." The prince's voice trailed off. He cupped the other man's face, running his fingers through his golden whiskers.

"Lord Hoster has agreed to the match with Jaime." Tywin quickly changed the topic. Traditionally, the great houses intermarried with their bannermen, but Rhaegar's plans required a change to that as well. _Eight houses ruling as one, bound to each other through marriage_. It _could_ work, he had to grant the prince that much. But he knew they would have to move fast, establish facts on the ground and detain the King. The slightest of missteps would cost them their heads. _Aerys nearly had me executed once. He's just waiting for an excuse_.

It was as if the prince could read his thoughts. "Sometimes you _have_ to take risks," he said.

It wasn't that Rhaegar didn't see the danger. No. The prince knew this could all end with both of their heads on spikes. But he clung to his stubborn hope, and Tywin couldn't help but feel he bore part of the blame. _To love and be loved will give a man courage and make him believe the world is full of possibilities._ "Your great-grandfather said the same," he cautioned. "I watched him burn at Summerhall."

The mention of that name brought the sadness back into the prince's eyes. "You're right to have your doubts," he admitted. "But a tourney is the best way to do this, the _safest_ way to do this."

"The Blackfyre pretenders tried the same at Whitewalls," Tywin said. "Bloodraven caught them before they ever had the chance to make a move."

"Lord Bloodraven is dead."

"Your father has the Lyseni by his side. He has as many ears as Rivers had eyes." His hand curled into a fist. "This could all have been settled at Duskendale if it hadn't been for Barristan and his damned _boldness_."

Rhaegar fell silent. They'd fought about the Defiance too often already. "Let's not talk about the things that didn't come to pass," the prince finally said, placing a kiss on Tywin's lips. "Let's talk about the things that will be if we prevail."


End file.
